August 9, 2025 • 50 mins
What if your greatest achievements are the ones no one has ever witnessed? What if your most significant growth happens in moments of complete solitude, when there's no audience to validate your struggle?
"The Man Who Vanished" takes us on a mesmerizing journey through a metaphorical chess game where each piece represents not just an achievement, but a wound healed—just enough to keep moving forward. Our protagonist awakens in a mysterious chamber with only fragments of memory, guided by an enigmatic figure who reveals that "GRAND" stands for Grief, Ruin, Ascension, Nullification, and Divinity—stages through which one must pass to reach authentic selfhood.
Through a series of trials, we witness profound lessons about transformation. In "The Tower Without Applause," our protagonist climbs a treacherous staircase that no one sees—a powerful metaphor for the struggles we endure without recognition. Later, he simply walks alongside an elderly man, learning that service isn't about strength or performance but about genuine presence. Most poignantly, he confronts the relationship he abandoned, discovering that "pain doesn't mean punishment."
The heart of this episode beats with a revolutionary truth: transformation occurs not through victory but through quiet perseverance—staying when it hurts, serving without recognition, confronting truths without witnesses. As our protagonist collects each chess piece, he realizes they aren't trophies but stories, stepping stones on the path to becoming real.
Whether you're facing unseen challenges, questioning your progress, or searching for meaning beyond external validation, this episode offers a profound alternative to performance-based growth. Join us as we explore what it means to build without applause and to become whole without anyone noticing.
Remember, you create your reality. What silent climb in your life have you never honored, and what would it mean to finally acknowledge it?
"True mastery is found in the details. The way you handle the little things defines the way you handle everything."
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Hello and welcome to the Gentleman's Journey podcast.
My name is Anthony, your host,and today we are in episode
seven of Grandeur.
This one is the man whovanished.
So let's go ahead and let's getinto the cold opening.
(00:20):
It's cold, not like wind, notlike winter.
It's the kind of cold thatseeps in from nowhere, a
stillness that's older thansound.
He wakes up on stone, no memoryof lying down, no sense of being
(00:41):
taken.
Just here, a sharp breath cutsthrough his lungs as he sits up
too fast.
The world doesn't follow, itjust waits, like it's done,
watching him suffer.
Darkness surrounds him, but notempty darkness.
(01:01):
This is sculpted, intentional,like someone chose this shade of
black.
He blinks.
There's a dull ache at the backof his skull, like something
struck him but didn't finish thejob, like he was supposed to
forget more than this.
The air tastes of dust and iron.
(01:24):
There's no light, no sound,just a steady hum of his own
heartbeat, loud in his throat.
He reaches for his chest,slowly, instinctively.
His coat still there, damp,heavy.
Inside of his left-spreadpocket.
(01:45):
He finds it.
The box Doesn't open, it neverdoes.
But he holds it in his hand,pressing it against his heart,
like it could still rewind time,like he still might to carry
her name inside of it.
He swallows hard and checks theother pockets.
His fingers close around twofamiliar shapes, cool to the
(02:08):
touch, the knight and the bishopstill with him.
He sighs, not relief exactly,but something like permission to
keep going.
He's not completely lost, notyet but a sound.
His head snaps toward it.
It's faint, like breathing,echoing through a tunnel.
(02:31):
Then a drag of something acrossstone.
Not footsteps, not chains, justpresence.
He calls out hoarse Hello.
No answer.
His voice feels wrong in thisplace, like it doesn't belong
(02:54):
here, like it wakes somethingolder than him.
The silence presses closer.
His eyes adjust.
There's something ahead, anoutline, a seam in the wall.
He stumbles forward, legs stiff, ribs still aching.
He reaches the seam, presseshis fingers no sound, no flash,
(03:17):
just gone.
Behind it, a long hallway,narrow, endless, lit by a pale
blue glow that has no source.
At the far end, a shape Seated,still Waiting.
(03:42):
He steps forward Slowly.
Still waiting, he steps forwardslowly.
The stone beneath him hums witheach footfall, like it
remembers every man who everwalked this corridor.
Each step starts to feelheavier.
He's not afraid, not really.
(04:02):
It's something deeper than fear, it's recognition.
He knows, somewhere beneath thestatic of forgetting that this
is the moment everything changes, that this path doesn't lead
out, it leads in.
(04:24):
The figure doesn't move.
As he approaches it's cloaked,hooded hands, resting on a
carved walking stick, but thestaff is cracked, worn like it's
been through too many winters.
The man stops a few paces away.
The cloaked figure speaks notwith voice but with presence.
(04:49):
The sound vibrates through thewalls, but not his ears.
You're late, he swallows.
Where am I Not lost, but alsonot found.
Who are you Not?
(05:10):
Who, what?
The figure finally lifts itshead.
The hood falls back, no face,just shimmer, like wind trapped
in skin.
You carry the pieces, but notknow the board.
You speak of grandeur, yet donot know its letters.
(05:36):
The man steps back.
Uh, what do you mean?
You've been wandering in pieces.
Now you must learn what they'refor.
He blinks and in that blink thewalls shift symbols, light up
(05:57):
across the floor, squares, lines, grids, a chessboard and in the
center a pulsing glyph of acrown, but no throne, no king.
The game has always beenwatching.
Then silence.
Then the man's dead is at theedge of something he doesn't
(06:20):
understand, but something insidehim whispers.
This is where the real storybegins.
Part one, the one who waited.
There was no chair, but he satanyways.
The floor felt warmer beneathhim now, like it had been
(06:42):
expecting this moment longerthan he had, and the shape in
the cloak still hadn't moved.
It had spoken once, yes, butthat voice hadn't come from a
mouth.
It had entered him like amemory, like pain.
He waited A minute, maybe anhour.
(07:06):
Time in this place wasn't madeof seconds, it was made of
weight.
The figure finally rose one arm,slow, deliberate, in motion.
For him to come closer.
The man stood, bones achinglike he's aged ten years, in the
dark and stepped into the finalfew feet of space between them,
(07:30):
up close.
The guide wasn't cloaked incloth, it was something heavier,
a kind of fabric that doesn'tmove unless it meant to.
The patterns were faint, almostinvisible, but there Symbols
woven into the hem.
One of them looked like thebishop's shape, another like an
(07:54):
open eye cracked through thecenter.
You carry two pieces.
The guide said this time thevoice wasn't inside of him.
The guide said this time thevoice wasn't inside of him, it
came through the air likethunder, wrapped in patience.
He nodded yeah, the knight andthe bishop.
Which did you earn first, theknight?
(08:16):
The guy tilted his head.
Why?
I don't know.
It just came to me.
I was moving through something.
I didn't understand it at allat the time.
You still don't.
I'm trying.
(08:38):
No, you're surviving.
Then silence.
He clenched his jaw.
Why, why am I here?
The guy didn't answer.
Instead, he raised his staffand tapped against the floor.
Once the air shifted, lines ofblue and white light pulsed out
(09:03):
in all directions across thestone, across the walls and
across him.
They spread upwards, connectingin sharp 90-degree turns, until
a perfect grid revealed itselfaround them An 8x8 board, but
not etched or projected.
Alive, it hummed with tension,with memory.
(09:27):
He stepped back instinctively.
The board.
He said Not yet.
The guy replied this is itsecho.
The real board waits.
He swallowed nervously.
The real board waits.
He swallowed nervously wherethe guy lifted a glove hand and
(09:52):
tapped his chest inside.
Every man carries the gamewithin him.
Most bury it.
A few hear its call, but onlyone in every generation is
offered the chance to finish it.
The man tried to breathe.
(10:13):
It felt like the room wasshrinking, though nothing had
moved.
Why, why me?
The guy didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into thecloak and pulled out something A
small stone, white, smoothRound.
(10:34):
The man recognized it instantlyA pawn, but not like the others
he'd seen in his life.
This one shifted when he lookedat it.
Its shape rippled slightly,like it was being remembered by
something older than time.
You will earn this, but not yet, the guy said.
(10:56):
Then returned to its folds ofthe cloak.
Sixteen pieces.
He said that's the full board.
The guy nodded knight, bishop,rook, queen, king.
He trailed off.
(11:17):
Do not list them like.
You know them.
He looked up.
You have seen their forms, theguide continued, but not their
purpose.
And the board does not careabout form, it rewards only
truth.
(11:37):
He stepped forward again, fistclenched.
Then tell me, teach me, show mewhat they mean, not all at once
.
Why not?
Because you are still a liar.
The words hit harder than theyshould have.
The man took one step back.
(12:00):
You don't even know me.
The guide's voice droppedquieter.
Now almost gentle.
I know you never gave her thering.
His throat closed.
The guy turned his headslightly toward the left of the
room.
There was a stone platform.
(12:22):
Now he hadn't seen it before.
On top his coat, his box, theexact one he carried, still
closed.
Nothing touches it.
The guide said.
Even here he didn't move.
You said earlier.
(12:43):
I don't know what grand means.
The guy turned back toward him.
No, but you will Then spoke itthis time slowly, deliberately
Grand, it's an acronym.
The G stands for grief.
The G stands for grief, the Rstands for ruin, the A stands
(13:10):
for ascension, the N stands fornullification and the D stands
for divinity.
The words echoed in the stonelike prayers.
He repeated them softly Grief,ruin, ascension, nullification,
(13:30):
divinity.
You must pass through all five.
The guide said Each one takessomething from you and gives you
nothing in return, until theend.
What's at the end?
What's at the end?
You, he frowned you, before theforgetting, before the
(13:55):
pretending.
Before you traded the board forsomething easier.
He sat again, not because hewanted to, because his knees
gave out.
The guide stepped closer.
I will walk you through fivemore pieces, he said, but after
that you leave.
(14:18):
The guide paused, then nodded.
And what comes after you?
He asked.
The guy tilted his head theside of you that doesn't want to
be saved.
He went still.
Then he whispered to the man,the red king.
(14:43):
He said nothing.
Then he whispered to the man,the Red King.
He said nothing, but the lightsacross the board dimmed just
slightly.
Let us begin.
You've earned the knight, theone who moves in silence and
strikes at angles no one sees.
You did not understand him whenhe came, but he came because
(15:03):
you bent instead of broke.
You earned the bishop, the onewho watches diagonally across
time and motive.
You earned him throughstillness, through waiting,
through silence.
That wasn't submission.
The next piece you need is therook.
He stood, the guide raised itsstaff and pointed to a wall.
(15:27):
Symbols emerged spirals, towers, scaffolding.
The rook represents foundation,not strength, not dominance,
not order, but what you buildwhen no one claps for you.
The wall turned, a door openedInside a narrow staircase of
(15:48):
shattered stone Climb.
The guide said If you fall,you'll return.
If you reach the top, the pieceis yours.
He looked at him and if I don't?
The guy didn't answer becausethey both knew he would.
(16:15):
Part two, the tower, withoutapplause.
He stands before the staircase.
It rises not in symmetry but infracture, each step, a
different shape, a differentheight, as if it was carved from
broken pieces of other men'sclimbs.
Some are cracked, some aremissing entirely, a few are worn
(16:38):
down so thin they look likethey can shatter under breath.
There are no railings.
There are no railings.
There are no safety nets, onlya spiral, jagged stone winding
through a tower that doesn'tseem to end.
Behind him, the guide speakswith calm finality.
No one sees you climb this.
(17:01):
That's why it matters.
He nods once and steps forward.
The first stone beneath hisfoot shifts slightly, like it
wasn't ready for him.
Like he wasn't ready for it.
He climbs At first he tries tocount the steps.
(17:27):
After 39, the rhythm collapses.
Some require lunges, somedemand crawling.
The silence is oppressive untilit isn't because, somewhere
around the 15th step, he hearsit Breath, but it's not his.
A rhythmic inhale and exhaleechoing through the tower, like
(17:50):
someone else is here, rightbehind him.
But when he glances over hisshoulder, the stairs vanish into
mist.
No one's there.
Still, the sound continues,each exhale matching his own,
(18:10):
each exhale just a fraction late.
He climbs faster.
His legs begin to burn, notwith exertion but memory,
because the pain isn't muscular,it's something else, like a
phantom moon that comes fromfailure.
His mind drifts back to ahallway White walls, fluorescent
(18:32):
lights, a clipboard in his hand, an office job he had for eight
months.
He quit on a Tuesday.
No plan, no goodbye, justwalked out.
He doesn't remember why.
Only that he did and that noone noticed, not his boss, not
(18:52):
his team, not even the woman hewent home to that night.
He expected fireworks, a fight,something, but there was only
silence.
No one sees you climb this Step, step another, then a ledge
(19:15):
wide enough to stop to breathe.
He collapses onto it.
His body is shaking, not fromthe exertion but from everything
coming back.
This ledge is different thoughit's smooth, it's flat, it's
almost warm.
In the center, a small woodendesk, just a desk and a chair.
(19:38):
He hesitates.
Then sits On the desk, a singlesheet of paper and a pen.
Nothing written, no prompt,just emptiness.
(19:59):
He stares at it for a long time.
Then he picks up the pen,doesn't remember what he writes,
only the feeling, the weight inhis chest, the grief that comes
when you finally look atyourself, not through someone
else's eyes but your own.
But the time he lifts the penhe's crying quietly.
(20:21):
The tears surprise him.
The tower doesn't.
The desk disappears the momenthe stands and the staircase
continues.
He climbs, hours pass, maybedays.
Time is lost here, and so is he.
But he climbs Because thisisn't about reaching the top,
(20:47):
it's about becoming someone whowould.
The next platform is higher,narrower.
Just one has no desk, just amirror, and not a clean one.
Cracks run through its center,a spiderweb of fractured truth.
He steps in front of it.
He sees himself, but not quite.
(21:09):
His reflection is slightlyyounger, smiling, wearing a
t-shirt he hadn't owned in years.
But then the mirror moves, notthe glass, the image.
The man in the reflection turnsaway, starts walking down a
hallway he doesn't recognize,and behind the younger version,
(21:34):
her she's walking with him,laughing.
The ring is on her finger.
He stares, he's paralyzed.
Then the glass begins to freezeover, frost crawls across the
image, consumes it, and then itcracks, shatters.
He falls to his knees again.
(21:56):
His hands are trembling.
This, this is the cost, he says.
But he gets up.
He climbs Eventually.
There are no more stairs, only aplatform.
It's vast, it's circular, opento an impossible sky.
(22:18):
But there's no wind, no sound.
But in the center of theplatform, a stone column.
Upon it, the rook.
It's larger than other pieces,smoother, heavier, black marble
with silver veins that pulsefaintly beneath its surface.
(22:43):
He approaches it slowly.
There's no guide here, just him.
He reaches out and stopsbecause the column has writing
on it Three lines, carved inlanguage he shouldn't understand
.
But he does Build, withoutapplause or burn for attention.
(23:06):
He touches the rook and itvanishes.
Not in smoke, not in light, itsimply ceases to be.
And he feels it inside him, notlike a prize, not like a gift,
(23:26):
like an oath, like something hewill never be allowed to break.
He turns, the staircase is gone,but the path back isn't stairs,
it's a drop.
Sheer, endless waiting, andsomething tells him fall or stay
(23:50):
.
But you can't go back.
So he steps forward and lets go.
He falls, not through air,through memory, through pain,
through versions of himselfclawing at the edges.
(24:10):
He screams once and the soundis at fear, it's surrender.
Then, dark, he wakes on thecold stone floor.
Again back in the chamber, theguide stands exactly where he
left him waiting.
(24:31):
The man doesn't speak, he justpulls something from his coat,
the rook.
It's there now.
He doesn't remember taking it,doesn't remember pocketing it,
but it's his.
The guide nods once.
(24:51):
Three down.
Thirteen to go, and the roombegins to shift again.
Part three the humbling of thefirst step.
Thirteen to go and the roombegins to shift again.
Part Three the Humbling of theFirst Step.
The room shifts, not like wind,not like a dream, but like the
world holds its breath and thenexhales something different.
(25:15):
The floor vanishes, the lightflattens and when the man opens
his eyes he's standing in ahallway made of smooth gray
stone.
But this isn't ancient likebefore.
It's too clean, it's tooclinical.
There's a hum in the wall,somewhere Water moves through
hidden pipes in the wall,somewhere Water moves through
(25:37):
hidden pipes.
He smells disinfectant.
He turns slowly.
No window, no doors, just thehallway and at the far end a
chair In it, someone sittingslumped forward, not moving.
(26:00):
The man walks towards themcautiously.
It takes longer than it should.
Every step feels like he'swalking in place, like the
hallway stretches ahead, everyinch he gains.
But finally he reaches.
It's an old man, thin, frail,eyes closed, wearing a thin
(26:24):
hospital gown and a pair of oldsocks.
A metal cane rests against thechair.
The man doesn't speak, he waits.
Finally the figure stirs just alittle, without opening his
eyes.
The old man mutters Beenwaiting.
The man leans down slightly.
Hey, do you need help?
The old man mouth switches,maybe a smile, maybe not.
(26:48):
No, I just need you.
He helps him stand.
It takes longer than it should.
Every movement is slow, acareful negotiation between pain
and gravity.
They begin walking down thehallway together, step by step.
At first.
(27:09):
The man tries to support himfrom the side, but the old man
slaps his hand away.
Not that kind of help.
Just walk with me.
So he does.
Just walk with me.
So he does.
They walk Silence For a longtime.
The hallway never ends.
(27:29):
The old man speaks again.
You think helping someone meansbeing strong for them?
That's not help, that'sperformance.
The man doesn't respond, theykeep walking.
When I was your age I used tothink service was for the weak,
(27:51):
for the ones who had no legacyedge, no hunger.
He chuckles and coughs.
Funny thing is now I know thestrongest man I've ever met
carried water for people whonever even looked at them.
Man feels something shiftinside him, not much, just a
(28:16):
flicker.
They reach a bench.
The old man gestures, they sit.
He pulls out something from hispocket, a small cloth-wrapped
parcel.
He unwraps it slowly Inside aworn deck of playing cards.
(28:37):
The man watches the old manbegin to shuffle.
You want to play a game?
What kind of game?
The kind that tells the truth.
He deals five cards each.
They play Not poker, notanything.
The man recognizes, but somehowhe understands the rules as
(29:03):
they go.
After the third round the oldman looks up.
Have you ever served food tosomeone who doesn't say thank
you?
Yeah, did it change you?
He pauses.
I think it made me angry.
Good, the old man smiles,really smiles.
(29:25):
This time At least it made yousomething.
The hallway doesn't end.
They play cards.
They talk Not about the board,not about the pieces, just about
people, moments, regrets.
And the man finds himselfspeaking, more than he expected,
(29:52):
about the time he left someoneon red for three months, about
the apology he never made to hisfather, about the way he used
to lie just to keep people close.
He doesn't say it to impressthe old man.
He says because no one'slistening here, no one will clap
, no one will quote him, andthat's why it matters.
(30:14):
Eventually, the old man stops.
He places one card on the benchbetween them.
It's blank.
You've served your time.
He stares at it.
But you weren't supposed to fixme, you were just supposed to
be here and that's the piece youwere missing.
The card glows Not bright, justfaint.
(30:38):
The man reaches out to touch itand it dissolves Into a skin.
The card glows not bright, justfaint.
The man reaches out to touch itand it dissolves into his skin.
He's standing alone again.
No hallway, no bench, just thestone floor, the chamber and the
guide stands beside him.
Pawn one.
(30:59):
He nods, doesn't speak.
The guide raises his hand Onthe wall.
A faint inscription appears Toserve without reward is the
first key to legacy.
He closes his eyes Part four,the memory he never shared.
(31:20):
Closes his eyes Part 4, theMemory he Never Shared.
The chamber breathes again, notliterally, but it feels that
way.
The man can sense it in the air, like something has shifted.
Opened the wall opposite.
The guide begins to rippleStone gives way to something
(31:42):
smoother, darker.
Opened the wall opposite.
The guide begins to rippleStone gives way to something
smoother, darker.
Like obsidian made liquid.
It forms an archway.
No sound, no music, just aninvitation.
The guide nods.
Once you must go alone again.
The man doesn't ask why.
He already knows Some doorscan't be opened with help, some
(32:10):
truths can't be witnessed byanyone else.
He steps through and the worlddissolves.
He wakes in a living room, hisliving room Old carpet, dusty
bookshelf, a crooked lamp with ascarf over the shade.
This isn't a memory becauseit's wrong.
The coffee table has noscratches, the couch isn't torn
(32:33):
and she's there On the floorBack against the couch, legs
tucked into her chest, reading.
She looks up and smiles.
Hey, he doesn't speak, he can't.
His throat locks, his heartshudders.
She doesn't notice.
(33:01):
She pats the floor beside hersit, he does.
The air is warm, the kind ofwarm that doesn't come from heat
but from the illusion thatnothing's wrong.
She opens a photo of him, one hedoesn't remember owning, inside
pictures of the life they neverhad her in a white sundress,
him in a linen shirt, laughingin Italy.
(33:23):
A child, blonde hair, her eyes,chasing pigeons through a plaza
.
Every photo stings.
Every image is a blade dulledby beauty.
He can't look away.
She turns a page.
It's blank.
Why didn't you ever show methis one, she asks.
(33:47):
He looks down, the page beginsto fill slowly from the edges in
A memory forms, one he forgot,one he chose to forget.
It's them.
Forms, one he forgot, one hechose to forget.
It's them.
But it's not a vacation, it's afight, a quiet one, one of
(34:07):
those nights when nothing getsloud but everything breaks.
She's sitting on the bed, he'sin the doorway, his hands are
clenched, her eyes are tired,there's no yelling, only
disappointment, only silence.
And then he walks away, not outof the room, out of the
relationship.
The memory freezes.
(34:31):
She turns to him you didn'tfight for me.
Tears run down his face I.
I didn't fight for me.
Tears run down his face, I.
I didn't know how.
He whispers.
She nods.
That's why you're here.
He looks down at the page.
(34:51):
The memory changes.
Now it's him Alone In a smallapartment, later, maybe years,
drinking, writing things he'llnever send.
The engagement ring sits on thecounter, stolen, spock's,
(35:11):
unopened, untouched.
She closes the album.
This is the piece she says.
He looks at her.
What peace.
She taps his chest the part ofyou that remembers pain doesn't
mean punishment.
She fades the room withers.
He's standing in the chamberagain.
(35:34):
A pawn rests in his hand, pawntwo.
He closes his fingers around itFor the first time since waking
in the alley.
He forgives himself, notcompletely, but enough.
(35:56):
The guy doesn't speak.
The room prepares for the nexttrial and the man stands taller,
not because he's stronger, butbecause this time he stayed.
Part 5.
The Shape of Trust.
There is no instruction thistime.
(36:17):
No doorway, no voice from theguide, no whisper from the walls
.
The man simply turns and thechamber is gone.
He's standing in a vast openfield.
Golden light spills acrosseverything, but there's no sun
in the sky, just a horizon thatstretches forever.
(36:39):
In front of him, a housefamiliar but wrong again.
It's the house he grew up in,but rebuilt Wider porch, new
paint, no broken fence.
A dog barks from the inside ofthe house, a sound he hadn't
(37:01):
heard in decades.
He steps forward.
Each footstep sinks slightlyinto the dirt Not soft, just
real.
He reaches the porch.
The front door creaks open.
No one stands there, but hewalks inside.
The air smells like pancakesand dust.
(37:24):
The living room is filled withsun, not bright but warm.
Gentle On the couch, two people,not moving, not speaking, but
he knows them.
It's his mom.
It's his mom, it's his brother,not as they were, but as he
(37:49):
remembers them at their best,before sickness, before distance
.
His mother lifts her head whenhave you been, she asks.
He opens his mouth to answer,but his brother speaks instead.
He opens his mouth to answer,but his brother speaks instead.
Mom, he forgot how to trust.
He blinks.
And now he's sitting at thekitchen table.
There's a notebook in front ofhim, pages filled with
handwriting, his own Letters,notes, promises, all of them
(38:15):
unfinished.
He flips through them Apologies, he's never sent Ideas, he
never built Vows, he never kept.
His brother sits across fromhim now watching.
You're scared, they won'tbelieve you, his brother says.
He nods You're right, but thereal fear fear, his brother says
(38:40):
is that they will and they haveto become it.
The table fades.
Now he's on the porch again.
It's night, stars overhead,millions of them, but it's
silent.
He looks beside him.
The guide is there, seated,still no words for a long time.
(39:00):
He looks beside him, the guideis there, seated, still no words
for a long time.
Then the rook taught you how tobuild the pawns, taught you how
to serve.
Now the knight returns.
The man looks confused.
I earned him.
You earned his shape, not thereason.
(39:22):
The man looks confused, Iearned him.
You earned his shape, not thereason.
The shadow moves across the yarda figure, hooded, carrying
something wrapped in cloth.
It approaches slowly.
When it reaches a step itkneels, offers the bundle.
The man takes it, unwraps itInside a set of armor Familiar.
(39:44):
It's the same type of armorknights wear, but it's scuffed,
marked.
There's a crack across theshoulder plate.
He looks back at the guide.
Every knight wears what hesurvived.
Every piece must be carried.
Without boasting, the man putsthe armor on.
(40:05):
It's heavy, but it fits.
It fits really well because nowit carries him.
The hooded figure stands againand removes his hood.
It's him, an older version,wiser, harder, not cruel, but
(40:31):
tempered.
He nods once and vanishes.
The man looks at the guide.
He doesn't have to ask, thepiece is already in his hand.
Night two he holds it gently,then places it beside the others
Four.
(40:51):
Now he looks down at them andhe realizes none of them feel
like trophies, they feel likestories.
And they're not finished.
The guide stands and the worldbegins to move again.
Part 6.
The One who Stayed Silent.
(41:12):
The walls close again, not in athreatening way, more like a
final breath, like the worldknows something just ended.
The man stands in the center ofthe chamber, alone, but not
empty.
He feels the weight ofeverything he's gathered the
knight, the bishop, the rook,the two pawns and now the second
(41:37):
knight.
Each piece not just as simple,but a wound healed, just enough
to keep moving.
The guide steps forward, onemore piece, then the board
changes.
The man doesn't ask what thatmeans, he knows.
Now every question is answeredthrough motion.
(41:58):
The guide lifts a hand.
This time the light forms adoorway, but not like before.
This one flickers, it'sunstable, like it doesn't want
to stay open.
Go, the guide says he does.
(42:20):
He emerges into silence.
A massive cathedral, empty,endless but not abandoned.
The air carries weight, history, something sacred.
The floor is black stone veinedwith silver, like the rook
piece itself.
He walks forward, each stepechoes longer than it should.
(42:46):
At the far end of the cathedral, a small platform.
Upon it, a single book, closed,no guards, no riddles, just one
thing waiting to be read.
He approaches, his hand hoversover the cover, he hesitates,
then opens it.
The pages are blank until hetouches them.
(43:09):
Then they begin to fill.
The words etch themselvesacross the page, not in ink, but
in memory.
The page not in ink, but inmemory.
(43:29):
Let's go ahead and let's getinto the monologue.
You know there's a kind ofsilence you earn after pain, not
the kind that breaks you, thekind that rebuilds you from
underneath.
You know he sits in the dark,again back where it all started.
(43:49):
You know the alley, the box,the breath that never quite
fills his lungs.
But something's different now.
Not the world, not the sky, noteven the shadows, but him.
He doesn't feel stronger orsmarter or more important, he
just feels real.
And maybe that's the first timehe's ever been able to say that
the box is still in his coatpocket, still unopened, still
(44:14):
waiting.
He could take it out.
He could finally open it, seewhat's still inside.
You know what he doesn't,because now he knows some things
aren't about closure, somethings are about continuing,
even when the chapter neverfinishes.
So, as I'm saying this, what doyou think just happened?
(44:36):
What do you think you missed?
Here's what it is.
This wasn't a battle, it wasrebuilding.
He didn't climb for applause.
He didn't earn the pieces byperforming.
He earned them by surrenderingto humility, to memory, to truth
.
He faced a staircase no one saw.
(44:58):
He helped someone who neverwould, would really never
remember him.
Right, he told the truth to amemory who no longer exists.
He put on armor not to fightbut to carry his scars with
dignity.
And that test wasn't an action,it was silence.
(45:18):
He was shown what happens whenyou finally say I'm fine.
Too often, when you stay quietbecause you think honesty will
drive them away, every piecethis time came through the
absence of glory.
He came, I should say he becamesomething, not by winning, but
(45:41):
by staying when it hurt, bystanding in a room.
No one clapped.
For that's the reason, and ifyou're listening, if you're
really listening, then maybeyou've done the same.
So what do we do with this?
Now, right, you look at your ownstaircase.
(46:04):
Ask yourself what am I climbingquietly when no one's watching?
Right, ask yourself what have Iendured without witnesses?
Did I ever give myself creditfor it?
Ask yourself, where have I beensilent?
Not because I was wise, butbecause I was afraid.
(46:24):
And then ask yourself whatpieces have you earned that no
one sees?
And does it matter if theydon't?
Because maybe you've beenwaiting for someone to hand you
something?
But what if it's already inyour pocket?
What if the ring has alwaysbeen there Not to be opened but
to remind you why you started?
So let's go ahead and get intothese reflection questions, okay
(46:49):
.
Reflection one what silent climbin your life have you never
honored and what did it shape inyou?
Number two Number three andwhat would it mean to release it
(47:21):
?
Number four how do you defineprogress when no one is watching
?
And number five what would itfeel like to become whole
without anyone ever noticing?
So?
Well, guys, now he's notgetting beat up, he's not
(47:44):
getting starved, he's notwalking around aimlessly and
trying to figure stuff out.
Now there's a path.
Now we're starting to seemomentum in his life, and that's
the fun part about this.
Now, obviously, there's goingto be a lot of twists and turns,
but just know that noteverything is forever and some
(48:07):
things are just temporary.
So, as I'm saying that, I wantto thank every single person
who's listening today.
This, the amount, it just ithonestly blows me away.
Guys, the amount of support youguys give to this show, the
conversations we have, themessages I get from you.
(48:30):
It honestly means the world tome and I can never thank you
guys enough.
So thank you so much for yoursupport of the show.
Now, if you want to support theshow, there's really two ways to
do it.
First way is send this tosomebody who needs to hear it,
right A family member, a friend.
Give it to them.
(48:51):
Let you be the way to helpthemselves, right.
Or the second way you can helpthis show out is just leaving a
review.
Reviews do so so many thingsfor the show.
So if you do that, I wouldsincerely appreciate it.
Now, if you want to have aconversation with me about this
(49:12):
series or this episode, there'sthree ways to do it.
Okay, first way is going to bethrough the description here.
There's a little link that sayslet's chat.
You click on that and you and Ican have a conversation about
this series, this episode, orthe 14 plus series that I have,
and then 270 now episodes thatare out there on Jen's Journey.
(49:34):
It's crazy, right?
Second way is going to bethrough my email.
My email is anthonyatjentsjourneycom.
Feel free to reach out to methere.
And then, last but not least,you can always go to my
Instagram.
My Instagram is myjentsjourney.
Feel free to reach out to methere as well, too.
Okay, so, guys, again, thankyou so much from the bottom of
(49:56):
my heart for listening today.
And remember this you createyour reality.
Take care.
Hello and welcome to the Gentleman's Journey podcast.
My name is Anthony, your host,and today we are in episode
seven of Grandeur.
This one is the man whovanished.
So let's go ahead and let's getinto the cold opening.
(00:20):
It's cold, not like wind, notlike winter.
It's the kind of cold thatseeps in from nowhere, a
stillness that's older thansound.
He wakes up on stone, no memoryof lying down, no sense of being
(00:41):
taken.
Just here, a sharp breath cutsthrough his lungs as he sits up
too fast.
The world doesn't follow, itjust waits, like it's done,
watching him suffer.
Darkness surrounds him, but notempty darkness.
(01:01):
This is sculpted, intentional,like someone chose this shade of
black.
He blinks.
There's a dull ache at the backof his skull, like something
struck him but didn't finish thejob, like he was supposed to
forget more than this.
The air tastes of dust and iron.
(01:24):
There's no light, no sound,just a steady hum of his own
heartbeat, loud in his throat.
He reaches for his chest,slowly, instinctively.
His coat still there, damp,heavy.
Inside of his left-spreadpocket.
(01:45):
He finds it.
The box Doesn't open, it neverdoes.
But he holds it in his hand,pressing it against his heart,
like it could still rewind time,like he still might to carry
her name inside of it.
He swallows hard and checks theother pockets.
His fingers close around twofamiliar shapes, cool to the
(02:08):
touch, the knight and the bishopstill with him.
He sighs, not relief exactly,but something like permission to
keep going.
He's not completely lost, notyet but a sound.
His head snaps toward it.
It's faint, like breathing,echoing through a tunnel.
(02:31):
Then a drag of something acrossstone.
Not footsteps, not chains, justpresence.
He calls out hoarse Hello.
No answer.
His voice feels wrong in thisplace, like it doesn't belong
(02:54):
here, like it wakes somethingolder than him.
The silence presses closer.
His eyes adjust.
There's something ahead, anoutline, a seam in the wall.
He stumbles forward, legs stiff, ribs still aching.
He reaches the seam, presseshis fingers no sound, no flash,
(03:17):
just gone.
Behind it, a long hallway,narrow, endless, lit by a pale
blue glow that has no source.
At the far end, a shape Seated,still Waiting.
(03:42):
He steps forward Slowly.
Still waiting, he steps forwardslowly.
The stone beneath him hums witheach footfall, like it
remembers every man who everwalked this corridor.
Each step starts to feelheavier.
He's not afraid, not really.
(04:02):
It's something deeper than fear, it's recognition.
He knows, somewhere beneath thestatic of forgetting that this
is the moment everything changes, that this path doesn't lead
out, it leads in.
(04:24):
The figure doesn't move.
As he approaches it's cloaked,hooded hands, resting on a
carved walking stick, but thestaff is cracked, worn like it's
been through too many winters.
The man stops a few paces away.
The cloaked figure speaks notwith voice but with presence.
(04:49):
The sound vibrates through thewalls, but not his ears.
You're late, he swallows.
Where am I Not lost, but alsonot found.
Who are you Not?
(05:10):
Who, what?
The figure finally lifts itshead.
The hood falls back, no face,just shimmer, like wind trapped
in skin.
You carry the pieces, but notknow the board.
You speak of grandeur, yet donot know its letters.
(05:36):
The man steps back.
Uh, what do you mean?
You've been wandering in pieces.
Now you must learn what they'refor.
He blinks and in that blink thewalls shift symbols, light up
(05:57):
across the floor, squares, lines, grids, a chessboard and in the
center a pulsing glyph of acrown, but no throne, no king.
The game has always beenwatching.
Then silence.
Then the man's dead is at theedge of something he doesn't
(06:20):
understand, but something insidehim whispers.
This is where the real storybegins.
Part one, the one who waited.
There was no chair, but he satanyways.
The floor felt warmer beneathhim now, like it had been
(06:42):
expecting this moment longerthan he had, and the shape in
the cloak still hadn't moved.
It had spoken once, yes, butthat voice hadn't come from a
mouth.
It had entered him like amemory, like pain.
He waited A minute, maybe anhour.
(07:06):
Time in this place wasn't madeof seconds, it was made of
weight.
The figure finally rose one arm,slow, deliberate, in motion.
For him to come closer.
The man stood, bones achinglike he's aged ten years, in the
dark and stepped into the finalfew feet of space between them,
(07:30):
up close.
The guide wasn't cloaked incloth, it was something heavier,
a kind of fabric that doesn'tmove unless it meant to.
The patterns were faint, almostinvisible, but there Symbols
woven into the hem.
One of them looked like thebishop's shape, another like an
(07:54):
open eye cracked through thecenter.
You carry two pieces.
The guide said this time thevoice wasn't inside of him.
The guide said this time thevoice wasn't inside of him, it
came through the air likethunder, wrapped in patience.
He nodded yeah, the knight andthe bishop.
Which did you earn first, theknight?
(08:16):
The guy tilted his head.
Why?
I don't know.
It just came to me.
I was moving through something.
I didn't understand it at allat the time.
You still don't.
I'm trying.
(08:38):
No, you're surviving.
Then silence.
He clenched his jaw.
Why, why am I here?
The guy didn't answer.
Instead, he raised his staffand tapped against the floor.
Once the air shifted, lines ofblue and white light pulsed out
(09:03):
in all directions across thestone, across the walls and
across him.
They spread upwards, connectingin sharp 90-degree turns, until
a perfect grid revealed itselfaround them An 8x8 board, but
not etched or projected.
Alive, it hummed with tension,with memory.
(09:27):
He stepped back instinctively.
The board.
He said Not yet.
The guy replied this is itsecho.
The real board waits.
He swallowed nervously.
The real board waits.
He swallowed nervously wherethe guy lifted a glove hand and
(09:52):
tapped his chest inside.
Every man carries the gamewithin him.
Most bury it.
A few hear its call, but onlyone in every generation is
offered the chance to finish it.
The man tried to breathe.
(10:13):
It felt like the room wasshrinking, though nothing had
moved.
Why, why me?
The guy didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into thecloak and pulled out something A
small stone, white, smoothRound.
(10:34):
The man recognized it instantlyA pawn, but not like the others
he'd seen in his life.
This one shifted when he lookedat it.
Its shape rippled slightly,like it was being remembered by
something older than time.
You will earn this, but not yet, the guy said.
(10:56):
Then returned to its folds ofthe cloak.
Sixteen pieces.
He said that's the full board.
The guy nodded knight, bishop,rook, queen, king.
He trailed off.
(11:17):
Do not list them like.
You know them.
He looked up.
You have seen their forms, theguide continued, but not their
purpose.
And the board does not careabout form, it rewards only
truth.
(11:37):
He stepped forward again, fistclenched.
Then tell me, teach me, show mewhat they mean, not all at once
.
Why not?
Because you are still a liar.
The words hit harder than theyshould have.
The man took one step back.
(12:00):
You don't even know me.
The guide's voice droppedquieter.
Now almost gentle.
I know you never gave her thering.
His throat closed.
The guy turned his headslightly toward the left of the
room.
There was a stone platform.
(12:22):
Now he hadn't seen it before.
On top his coat, his box, theexact one he carried, still
closed.
Nothing touches it.
The guide said.
Even here he didn't move.
You said earlier.
(12:43):
I don't know what grand means.
The guy turned back toward him.
No, but you will Then spoke itthis time slowly, deliberately
Grand, it's an acronym.
The G stands for grief.
The G stands for grief, the Rstands for ruin, the A stands
(13:10):
for ascension, the N stands fornullification and the D stands
for divinity.
The words echoed in the stonelike prayers.
He repeated them softly Grief,ruin, ascension, nullification,
(13:30):
divinity.
You must pass through all five.
The guide said Each one takessomething from you and gives you
nothing in return, until theend.
What's at the end?
What's at the end?
You, he frowned you, before theforgetting, before the
(13:55):
pretending.
Before you traded the board forsomething easier.
He sat again, not because hewanted to, because his knees
gave out.
The guide stepped closer.
I will walk you through fivemore pieces, he said, but after
that you leave.
(14:18):
The guide paused, then nodded.
And what comes after you?
He asked.
The guy tilted his head theside of you that doesn't want to
be saved.
He went still.
Then he whispered to the man,the red king.
(14:43):
He said nothing.
Then he whispered to the man,the Red King.
He said nothing, but the lightsacross the board dimmed just
slightly.
Let us begin.
You've earned the knight, theone who moves in silence and
strikes at angles no one sees.
You did not understand him whenhe came, but he came because
(15:03):
you bent instead of broke.
You earned the bishop, the onewho watches diagonally across
time and motive.
You earned him throughstillness, through waiting,
through silence.
That wasn't submission.
The next piece you need is therook.
He stood, the guide raised itsstaff and pointed to a wall.
(15:27):
Symbols emerged spirals, towers, scaffolding.
The rook represents foundation,not strength, not dominance,
not order, but what you buildwhen no one claps for you.
The wall turned, a door openedInside a narrow staircase of
(15:48):
shattered stone Climb.
The guide said If you fall,you'll return.
If you reach the top, the pieceis yours.
He looked at him and if I don't?
The guy didn't answer becausethey both knew he would.
(16:15):
Part two, the tower, withoutapplause.
He stands before the staircase.
It rises not in symmetry but infracture, each step, a
different shape, a differentheight, as if it was carved from
broken pieces of other men'sclimbs.
Some are cracked, some aremissing entirely, a few are worn
(16:38):
down so thin they look likethey can shatter under breath.
There are no railings.
There are no railings.
There are no safety nets, onlya spiral, jagged stone winding
through a tower that doesn'tseem to end.
Behind him, the guide speakswith calm finality.
No one sees you climb this.
(17:01):
That's why it matters.
He nods once and steps forward.
The first stone beneath hisfoot shifts slightly, like it
wasn't ready for him.
Like he wasn't ready for it.
He climbs At first he tries tocount the steps.
(17:27):
After 39, the rhythm collapses.
Some require lunges, somedemand crawling.
The silence is oppressive untilit isn't because, somewhere
around the 15th step, he hearsit Breath, but it's not his.
A rhythmic inhale and exhaleechoing through the tower, like
(17:50):
someone else is here, rightbehind him.
But when he glances over hisshoulder, the stairs vanish into
mist.
No one's there.
Still, the sound continues,each exhale matching his own,
(18:10):
each exhale just a fraction late.
He climbs faster.
His legs begin to burn, notwith exertion but memory,
because the pain isn't muscular,it's something else, like a
phantom moon that comes fromfailure.
His mind drifts back to ahallway White walls, fluorescent
(18:32):
lights, a clipboard in his hand, an office job he had for eight
months.
He quit on a Tuesday.
No plan, no goodbye, justwalked out.
He doesn't remember why.
Only that he did and that noone noticed, not his boss, not
(18:52):
his team, not even the woman hewent home to that night.
He expected fireworks, a fight,something, but there was only
silence.
No one sees you climb this Step, step another, then a ledge
(19:15):
wide enough to stop to breathe.
He collapses onto it.
His body is shaking, not fromthe exertion but from everything
coming back.
This ledge is different thoughit's smooth, it's flat, it's
almost warm.
In the center, a small woodendesk, just a desk and a chair.
(19:38):
He hesitates.
Then sits On the desk, a singlesheet of paper and a pen.
Nothing written, no prompt,just emptiness.
(19:59):
He stares at it for a long time.
Then he picks up the pen,doesn't remember what he writes,
only the feeling, the weight inhis chest, the grief that comes
when you finally look atyourself, not through someone
else's eyes but your own.
But the time he lifts the penhe's crying quietly.
(20:21):
The tears surprise him.
The tower doesn't.
The desk disappears the momenthe stands and the staircase
continues.
He climbs, hours pass, maybedays.
Time is lost here, and so is he.
But he climbs Because thisisn't about reaching the top,
(20:47):
it's about becoming someone whowould.
The next platform is higher,narrower.
Just one has no desk, just amirror, and not a clean one.
Cracks run through its center,a spiderweb of fractured truth.
He steps in front of it.
He sees himself, but not quite.
(21:09):
His reflection is slightlyyounger, smiling, wearing a
t-shirt he hadn't owned in years.
But then the mirror moves, notthe glass, the image.
The man in the reflection turnsaway, starts walking down a
hallway he doesn't recognize,and behind the younger version,
(21:34):
her she's walking with him,laughing.
The ring is on her finger.
He stares, he's paralyzed.
Then the glass begins to freezeover, frost crawls across the
image, consumes it, and then itcracks, shatters.
He falls to his knees again.
(21:56):
His hands are trembling.
This, this is the cost, he says.
But he gets up.
He climbs Eventually.
There are no more stairs, only aplatform.
It's vast, it's circular, opento an impossible sky.
(22:18):
But there's no wind, no sound.
But in the center of theplatform, a stone column.
Upon it, the rook.
It's larger than other pieces,smoother, heavier, black marble
with silver veins that pulsefaintly beneath its surface.
(22:43):
He approaches it slowly.
There's no guide here, just him.
He reaches out and stopsbecause the column has writing
on it Three lines, carved inlanguage he shouldn't understand
.
But he does Build, withoutapplause or burn for attention.
(23:06):
He touches the rook and itvanishes.
Not in smoke, not in light, itsimply ceases to be.
And he feels it inside him, notlike a prize, not like a gift,
(23:26):
like an oath, like something hewill never be allowed to break.
He turns, the staircase is gone,but the path back isn't stairs,
it's a drop.
Sheer, endless waiting, andsomething tells him fall or stay
(23:50):
.
But you can't go back.
So he steps forward and lets go.
He falls, not through air,through memory, through pain,
through versions of himselfclawing at the edges.
(24:10):
He screams once and the soundis at fear, it's surrender.
Then, dark, he wakes on thecold stone floor.
Again back in the chamber, theguide stands exactly where he
left him waiting.
(24:31):
The man doesn't speak, he justpulls something from his coat,
the rook.
It's there now.
He doesn't remember taking it,doesn't remember pocketing it,
but it's his.
The guide nods once.
(24:51):
Three down.
Thirteen to go, and the roombegins to shift again.
Part three the humbling of thefirst step.
Thirteen to go and the roombegins to shift again.
Part Three the Humbling of theFirst Step.
The room shifts, not like wind,not like a dream, but like the
world holds its breath and thenexhales something different.
(25:15):
The floor vanishes, the lightflattens and when the man opens
his eyes he's standing in ahallway made of smooth gray
stone.
But this isn't ancient likebefore.
It's too clean, it's tooclinical.
There's a hum in the wall,somewhere Water moves through
hidden pipes in the wall,somewhere Water moves through
(25:37):
hidden pipes.
He smells disinfectant.
He turns slowly.
No window, no doors, just thehallway and at the far end a
chair In it, someone sittingslumped forward, not moving.
(26:00):
The man walks towards themcautiously.
It takes longer than it should.
Every step feels like he'swalking in place, like the
hallway stretches ahead, everyinch he gains.
But finally he reaches.
It's an old man, thin, frail,eyes closed, wearing a thin
(26:24):
hospital gown and a pair of oldsocks.
A metal cane rests against thechair.
The man doesn't speak, he waits.
Finally the figure stirs just alittle, without opening his
eyes.
The old man mutters Beenwaiting.
The man leans down slightly.
Hey, do you need help?
The old man mouth switches,maybe a smile, maybe not.
(26:48):
No, I just need you.
He helps him stand.
It takes longer than it should.
Every movement is slow, acareful negotiation between pain
and gravity.
They begin walking down thehallway together, step by step.
At first.
(27:09):
The man tries to support himfrom the side, but the old man
slaps his hand away.
Not that kind of help.
Just walk with me.
So he does.
Just walk with me.
So he does.
They walk Silence For a longtime.
The hallway never ends.
(27:29):
The old man speaks again.
You think helping someone meansbeing strong for them?
That's not help, that'sperformance.
The man doesn't respond, theykeep walking.
When I was your age I used tothink service was for the weak,
(27:51):
for the ones who had no legacyedge, no hunger.
He chuckles and coughs.
Funny thing is now I know thestrongest man I've ever met
carried water for people whonever even looked at them.
Man feels something shiftinside him, not much, just a
(28:16):
flicker.
They reach a bench.
The old man gestures, they sit.
He pulls out something from hispocket, a small cloth-wrapped
parcel.
He unwraps it slowly Inside aworn deck of playing cards.
(28:37):
The man watches the old manbegin to shuffle.
You want to play a game?
What kind of game?
The kind that tells the truth.
He deals five cards each.
They play Not poker, notanything.
The man recognizes, but somehowhe understands the rules as
(29:03):
they go.
After the third round the oldman looks up.
Have you ever served food tosomeone who doesn't say thank
you?
Yeah, did it change you?
He pauses.
I think it made me angry.
Good, the old man smiles,really smiles.
(29:25):
This time At least it made yousomething.
The hallway doesn't end.
They play cards.
They talk Not about the board,not about the pieces, just about
people, moments, regrets.
And the man finds himselfspeaking, more than he expected,
(29:52):
about the time he left someoneon red for three months, about
the apology he never made to hisfather, about the way he used
to lie just to keep people close.
He doesn't say it to impressthe old man.
He says because no one'slistening here, no one will clap
, no one will quote him, andthat's why it matters.
(30:14):
Eventually, the old man stops.
He places one card on the benchbetween them.
It's blank.
You've served your time.
He stares at it.
But you weren't supposed to fixme, you were just supposed to
be here and that's the piece youwere missing.
The card glows Not bright, justfaint.
(30:38):
The man reaches out to touch itand it dissolves Into a skin.
The card glows not bright, justfaint.
The man reaches out to touch itand it dissolves into his skin.
He's standing alone again.
No hallway, no bench, just thestone floor, the chamber and the
guide stands beside him.
Pawn one.
(30:59):
He nods, doesn't speak.
The guide raises his hand Onthe wall.
A faint inscription appears Toserve without reward is the
first key to legacy.
He closes his eyes Part four,the memory he never shared.
(31:20):
Closes his eyes Part 4, theMemory he Never Shared.
The chamber breathes again, notliterally, but it feels that
way.
The man can sense it in the air, like something has shifted.
Opened the wall opposite.
The guide begins to rippleStone gives way to something
(31:42):
smoother, darker.
Opened the wall opposite.
The guide begins to rippleStone gives way to something
smoother, darker.
Like obsidian made liquid.
It forms an archway.
No sound, no music, just aninvitation.
The guide nods.
Once you must go alone again.
The man doesn't ask why.
He already knows Some doorscan't be opened with help, some
(32:10):
truths can't be witnessed byanyone else.
He steps through and the worlddissolves.
He wakes in a living room, hisliving room Old carpet, dusty
bookshelf, a crooked lamp with ascarf over the shade.
This isn't a memory becauseit's wrong.
The coffee table has noscratches, the couch isn't torn
(32:33):
and she's there On the floorBack against the couch, legs
tucked into her chest, reading.
She looks up and smiles.
Hey, he doesn't speak, he can't.
His throat locks, his heartshudders.
She doesn't notice.
(33:01):
She pats the floor beside hersit, he does.
The air is warm, the kind ofwarm that doesn't come from heat
but from the illusion thatnothing's wrong.
She opens a photo of him, one hedoesn't remember owning, inside
pictures of the life they neverhad her in a white sundress,
him in a linen shirt, laughingin Italy.
(33:23):
A child, blonde hair, her eyes,chasing pigeons through a plaza
.
Every photo stings.
Every image is a blade dulledby beauty.
He can't look away.
She turns a page.
It's blank.
Why didn't you ever show methis one, she asks.
(33:47):
He looks down, the page beginsto fill slowly from the edges in
A memory forms, one he forgot,one he chose to forget.
It's them.
Forms, one he forgot, one hechose to forget.
It's them.
But it's not a vacation, it's afight, a quiet one, one of
(34:07):
those nights when nothing getsloud but everything breaks.
She's sitting on the bed, he'sin the doorway, his hands are
clenched, her eyes are tired,there's no yelling, only
disappointment, only silence.
And then he walks away, not outof the room, out of the
relationship.
The memory freezes.
(34:31):
She turns to him you didn'tfight for me.
Tears run down his face I.
I didn't fight for me.
Tears run down his face, I.
I didn't know how.
He whispers.
She nods.
That's why you're here.
He looks down at the page.
(34:51):
The memory changes.
Now it's him Alone In a smallapartment, later, maybe years,
drinking, writing things he'llnever send.
The engagement ring sits on thecounter, stolen, spock's,
(35:11):
unopened, untouched.
She closes the album.
This is the piece she says.
He looks at her.
What peace.
She taps his chest the part ofyou that remembers pain doesn't
mean punishment.
She fades the room withers.
He's standing in the chamberagain.
(35:34):
A pawn rests in his hand, pawntwo.
He closes his fingers around itFor the first time since waking
in the alley.
He forgives himself, notcompletely, but enough.
(35:56):
The guy doesn't speak.
The room prepares for the nexttrial and the man stands taller,
not because he's stronger, butbecause this time he stayed.
Part 5.
The Shape of Trust.
There is no instruction thistime.
(36:17):
No doorway, no voice from theguide, no whisper from the walls
.
The man simply turns and thechamber is gone.
He's standing in a vast openfield.
Golden light spills acrosseverything, but there's no sun
in the sky, just a horizon thatstretches forever.
(36:39):
In front of him, a housefamiliar but wrong again.
It's the house he grew up in,but rebuilt Wider porch, new
paint, no broken fence.
A dog barks from the inside ofthe house, a sound he hadn't
(37:01):
heard in decades.
He steps forward.
Each footstep sinks slightlyinto the dirt Not soft, just
real.
He reaches the porch.
The front door creaks open.
No one stands there, but hewalks inside.
The air smells like pancakesand dust.
(37:24):
The living room is filled withsun, not bright but warm.
Gentle On the couch, two people,not moving, not speaking, but
he knows them.
It's his mom.
It's his mom, it's his brother,not as they were, but as he
(37:49):
remembers them at their best,before sickness, before distance
.
His mother lifts her head whenhave you been, she asks.
He opens his mouth to answer,but his brother speaks instead.
He opens his mouth to answer,but his brother speaks instead.
Mom, he forgot how to trust.
He blinks.
And now he's sitting at thekitchen table.
There's a notebook in front ofhim, pages filled with
handwriting, his own Letters,notes, promises, all of them
(38:15):
unfinished.
He flips through them Apologies, he's never sent Ideas, he
never built Vows, he never kept.
His brother sits across fromhim now watching.
You're scared, they won'tbelieve you, his brother says.
He nods You're right, but thereal fear fear, his brother says
(38:40):
is that they will and they haveto become it.
The table fades.
Now he's on the porch again.
It's night, stars overhead,millions of them, but it's
silent.
He looks beside him.
The guide is there, seated,still no words for a long time.
(39:00):
He looks beside him, the guideis there, seated, still no words
for a long time.
Then the rook taught you how tobuild the pawns, taught you how
to serve.
Now the knight returns.
The man looks confused.
I earned him.
You earned his shape, not thereason.
(39:22):
The man looks confused, Iearned him.
You earned his shape, not thereason.
The shadow moves across the yarda figure, hooded, carrying
something wrapped in cloth.
It approaches slowly.
When it reaches a step itkneels, offers the bundle.
The man takes it, unwraps itInside a set of armor Familiar.
(39:44):
It's the same type of armorknights wear, but it's scuffed,
marked.
There's a crack across theshoulder plate.
He looks back at the guide.
Every knight wears what hesurvived.
Every piece must be carried.
Without boasting, the man putsthe armor on.
(40:05):
It's heavy, but it fits.
It fits really well because nowit carries him.
The hooded figure stands againand removes his hood.
It's him, an older version,wiser, harder, not cruel, but
(40:31):
tempered.
He nods once and vanishes.
The man looks at the guide.
He doesn't have to ask, thepiece is already in his hand.
Night two he holds it gently,then places it beside the others
Four.
(40:51):
Now he looks down at them andhe realizes none of them feel
like trophies, they feel likestories.
And they're not finished.
The guide stands and the worldbegins to move again.
Part 6.
The One who Stayed Silent.
(41:12):
The walls close again, not in athreatening way, more like a
final breath, like the worldknows something just ended.
The man stands in the center ofthe chamber, alone, but not
empty.
He feels the weight ofeverything he's gathered the
knight, the bishop, the rook,the two pawns and now the second
(41:37):
knight.
Each piece not just as simple,but a wound healed, just enough
to keep moving.
The guide steps forward, onemore piece, then the board
changes.
The man doesn't ask what thatmeans, he knows.
Now every question is answeredthrough motion.
(41:58):
The guide lifts a hand.
This time the light forms adoorway, but not like before.
This one flickers, it'sunstable, like it doesn't want
to stay open.
Go, the guide says he does.
(42:20):
He emerges into silence.
A massive cathedral, empty,endless but not abandoned.
The air carries weight, history, something sacred.
The floor is black stone veinedwith silver, like the rook
piece itself.
He walks forward, each stepechoes longer than it should.
(42:46):
At the far end of the cathedral, a small platform.
Upon it, a single book, closed,no guards, no riddles, just one
thing waiting to be read.
He approaches, his hand hoversover the cover, he hesitates,
then opens it.
The pages are blank until hetouches them.
(43:09):
Then they begin to fill.
The words etch themselvesacross the page, not in ink, but
in memory.
The page not in ink, but inmemory.
(43:29):
Let's go ahead and let's getinto the monologue.
You know there's a kind ofsilence you earn after pain, not
the kind that breaks you, thekind that rebuilds you from
underneath.
You know he sits in the dark,again back where it all started.
(43:49):
You know the alley, the box,the breath that never quite
fills his lungs.
But something's different now.
Not the world, not the sky, noteven the shadows, but him.
He doesn't feel stronger orsmarter or more important, he
just feels real.
And maybe that's the first timehe's ever been able to say that
the box is still in his coatpocket, still unopened, still
(44:14):
waiting.
He could take it out.
He could finally open it, seewhat's still inside.
You know what he doesn't,because now he knows some things
aren't about closure, somethings are about continuing,
even when the chapter neverfinishes.
So, as I'm saying this, what doyou think just happened?
(44:36):
What do you think you missed?
Here's what it is.
This wasn't a battle, it wasrebuilding.
He didn't climb for applause.
He didn't earn the pieces byperforming.
He earned them by surrenderingto humility, to memory, to truth
.
He faced a staircase no one saw.
(44:58):
He helped someone who neverwould, would really never
remember him.
Right, he told the truth to amemory who no longer exists.
He put on armor not to fightbut to carry his scars with
dignity.
And that test wasn't an action,it was silence.
(45:18):
He was shown what happens whenyou finally say I'm fine.
Too often, when you stay quietbecause you think honesty will
drive them away, every piecethis time came through the
absence of glory.
He came, I should say he becamesomething, not by winning, but
(45:41):
by staying when it hurt, bystanding in a room.
No one clapped.
For that's the reason, and ifyou're listening, if you're
really listening, then maybeyou've done the same.
So what do we do with this?
Now, right, you look at your ownstaircase.
(46:04):
Ask yourself what am I climbingquietly when no one's watching?
Right, ask yourself what have Iendured without witnesses?
Did I ever give myself creditfor it?
Ask yourself, where have I beensilent?
Not because I was wise, butbecause I was afraid.
(46:24):
And then ask yourself whatpieces have you earned that no
one sees?
And does it matter if theydon't?
Because maybe you've beenwaiting for someone to hand you
something?
But what if it's already inyour pocket?
What if the ring has alwaysbeen there Not to be opened but
to remind you why you started?
So let's go ahead and get intothese reflection questions, okay
(46:49):
.
Reflection one what silent climbin your life have you never
honored and what did it shape inyou?
Number two Number three andwhat would it mean to release it
(47:21):
?
Number four how do you defineprogress when no one is watching
?
And number five what would itfeel like to become whole
without anyone ever noticing?
So?
Well, guys, now he's notgetting beat up, he's not
(47:44):
getting starved, he's notwalking around aimlessly and
trying to figure stuff out.
Now there's a path.
Now we're starting to seemomentum in his life, and that's
the fun part about this.
Now, obviously, there's goingto be a lot of twists and turns,
but just know that noteverything is forever and some
(48:07):
things are just temporary.
So, as I'm saying that, I wantto thank every single person
who's listening today.
This, the amount, it just ithonestly blows me away.
Guys, the amount of support youguys give to this show, the
conversations we have, themessages I get from you.
(48:30):
It honestly means the world tome and I can never thank you
guys enough.
So thank you so much for yoursupport of the show.
Now, if you want to support theshow, there's really two ways to
do it.
First way is send this tosomebody who needs to hear it,
right A family member, a friend.
Give it to them.
(48:51):
Let you be the way to helpthemselves, right.
Or the second way you can helpthis show out is just leaving a
review.
Reviews do so so many thingsfor the show.
So if you do that, I wouldsincerely appreciate it.
Now, if you want to have aconversation with me about this
(49:12):
series or this episode, there'sthree ways to do it.
Okay, first way is going to bethrough the description here.
There's a little link that sayslet's chat.
You click on that and you and Ican have a conversation about
this series, this episode, orthe 14 plus series that I have,
and then 270 now episodes thatare out there on Jen's Journey.
(49:34):
It's crazy, right?
Second way is going to bethrough my email.
My email is anthonyatjentsjourneycom.
Feel free to reach out to methere.
And then, last but not least,you can always go to my
Instagram.
My Instagram is myjentsjourney.
Feel free to reach out to methere as well, too.
Okay, so, guys, again, thankyou so much from the bottom of
(49:56):
my heart for listening today.
And remember this you createyour reality.
Take care.
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